


Pending Desires

by sleepynayeon



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Maybe a lil smut, literally EVERY twice member is involved, lotta angst, lotta soul searching, philosophical kinda?, the tags have a hint for endgame ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-04 03:59:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12161097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepynayeon/pseuds/sleepynayeon
Summary: Love can be a flowery field, or a twisting, sharp thicket.Love also is never what you think it will be.





	1. MINA

**Author's Note:**

> A more philosophical story that explores the depths of the heart.  
> Love in itself is a mystery, and these girls will prove it.
> 
>  
> 
> -a wonderful mystery, indeed.-
> 
>  
> 
> also posted on AFF under the same title. author name is chaeyvungs.

_Jihyo is my soulmate._

_I’ll never find anyone that’ll mean as much to me as she does._

That was Myoui Mina’s way of thinking when she claimed Park Jihyo as her partner. That was Mina’s way of thinking when society believed that there was such thing as true love, but you could only find it with the first person you fell in love with. Anything else after that was fake, _fake love,_ and unacceptable.

 

That was before Mina ventured out into the real world and discovered that, in fact, the opposite of what she believed was true. Her belief was fake, and along with it, her world. She might as well have been fake. After all, she grew up in that society, in that small world, with Jihyo. She was made up of all their beliefs. She was fake. Jihyo was fake. Their relationship was fake.

 

But, as said before, Mina didn’t discover this until she left her own small world.

 

It took her quite a long time to leave her world.

 

To leave Jihyo.

 

And it would be years before Mina found out that her love, the emotions she thought she felt for Jihyo, was pent up. Stored deep inside her heart.

 

Saved not for Jihyo, the woman she thought she loved,

But for her real soulmate.

 

For someone else out there.


	2. NAYEON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM NAYEON.

_When will I find that special someone?_

_The person who’s able to make me laugh no matter what?_

The real world, the bigger, more magnificent and intricate world, was the world Im Nayeon was familiar with. She knew everything about this world, it was her home, after all. She knew the complicated people that resided within it, and the systems that ran to help ensure this world would not crash. It was the modern, technology-based world, and quite a puzzle to navigate.

 

Especially when you’re looking for love.

 

Nayeon liked to believe that her desire, her love, was right out in the open for someone to steal. Someone to snatch it up and claim it as theirs; claim Nayeon as theirs. All they had to do was approach her.

 

And indeed, they approached her. Many a man (and woman) came to her, taking handfuls of her offered love. But they just weren’t right. It wasn’t that Nayeon was guarded and keeping her emotions tucked deep inside her heart, it was just that these people…weren’t right.

 

Alas. Nayeon had been watching one too many romantic dramas. All of which caused the viewer to believe that love was a fickle, easy thing; something that was easy to acquire and keep. Something that was sweet and wrapped you up in a soft, warm blanket.

 

Lies. Lies were what Nayeon was running on.

 

But would she ever find out?

 

Not for a few years, she wouldn’t.

 

Not until after she had dabbled in true love, rejected it…

 

Then returned to it, looking for that comfort, that warmth.

 

Nayeon craved love.

 

It was unhealthy, but eventually, once the right person came along,

 

It’d be healthy.


	3. CHAEYOUNG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SON CHAEYOUNG

_Love is ridiculous._

_I don’t need it, not now, not ever._

Mina and Nayeon believed in love. They had quite differentiating opinions, but they believed in love, all the same.

 

Son Chaeyoung didn’t think so.

 

Love was practically a disease in her eyes. Something that would infect its host and then leave their host to rot and die. Something that would ruin lives. Something that needed to be treated and then get rid of.

 

Chaeyoung had experience in love, from which she could base her claims off. Two girls she had dated in her high school years, two girls who she was close friends with now, but how it hurt. _How it hurt!_ Just passing them by in the coffee shop and saying a quick hello felt like Chaeyoung was being pierced by thorns, said thorns digging their way into her heart and staying there. By now, she probably had about three dozen thorns fixed into her battered heart. Torture, was what it was.

 

It ruined her life. It threw her off-course. If she had let herself be tossed around by the pain and the regret, by the guilt and the depression, she might have not been the famous photographer she was afterwards. She might have not created several works of art that went on to be national treasures. She might have ended up as a barista in a coffee shop, or one of those wannabe artists who only showed off their prowess by spraying graffiti all over walls.

 

It came this close to ruining her life permanently.

 

It probably ruined many others’ lives permanently.

 

Like Nayeon, Chaeyoung resided in the real world. Where nothing came easy, including such things as love. And quite frankly, that was fine to her. Chaeyoung had accomplished so much, so many things that were still on others’ lists that she had already checked off. Love was just one of the things at the very bottom, one of the things she’d never get around to doing. (Hah! Like she ever wanted to.)

 

Chaeyoung didn’t think her stance would change.

 

But when a certain black haired, ambitious, desperate-for-love young woman would come around and completely change Chaeyoung’s attitude towards her best friend, she would find herself thinking differently.

 

And when her life would be back in the dark, deep pits of depression, and her mind crawling back to the original stance it had taken so long ago, Chaeyoung would be saved by another young woman, someone who had believed that love was only found in the first person she would meet.

 

Chaeyoung would be saved.

 

That was, eventually, really all that mattered to her.


	4. JIHYO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARK JIHYO

_Mina may be mine,_

_But I think there’s someone else out there waiting for me._

Park Jihyo, not the eldest but the most mature of all four women.

 

Though she lived in the same compressed, small society as Mina, Jihyo never found herself agreeing with society’s every word. Jihyo thought bigger. Thought outside the box.

 

Sure, she loved Mina. Despite their completely different thoughts and opinions, Jihyo still loved Mina. But in no way, did she think Mina was her soulmate. No, that title was reserved for someone else. Someone entirely different. Mina was temporary. The other person would be permanent.

 

Unlike the other girls, Jihyo wasn’t trying to find love, assure herself she already found love, or deny love. She had done plenty of that before, and failed in all. She had already found the truth about love, the truth the other girls had not. She knew that she was saving up for that other special person, the other special person that was not Mina.

 

Jihyo felt guilty about thinking this way towards Mina. Every time she’d look at Mina’s calm yet happy face, or pull the younger to her chest in a tight hug, nothing but guilt would fill her mind. But it was inevitable; their leave from each other was inevitable. Mina wouldn’t be able to handle it, but Jihyo would, albeit just barely. Jihyo would continue to care for Mina though. And she would comfort both herself and Mina, telling her that there was someone else out there waiting for them.

 

Someone else. Someone who would really be theirs. Forever.


	5. PENDING DESIRES.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pending desires,  
> and thus it begins.

_...And she would comfort both herself and Mina, telling her that there was someone else out there waiting for them. Someone else. Someone who would really be theirs. Forever._

 

Someone? Who were those someones?

 

Two people who had already met, who had already gone through the process of love several times.

 

Two people who would change their lives drastically.

 

…That’s wrong.

 

Not only will all four of their lives be changed, five other lives will be thrown into the mix.

 

And those five people will find themselves in the same position as these four girls are in now.

 

Their story is for another time, though.

 

For now, the focus is on Mina, Jihyo, Nayeon, and Chaeyoung.

 

Four girls who are, for the most part, figuring out love.

 

Four girls who will go through the necessary yet surprising ups and downs of life just to get to their ending positions.

 

Four girls who have pending desires,

 

Just waiting to be unleashed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!
> 
> i've been writing this story for a while and i really like the concept. i hope you guys will, too.
> 
> don't worry, i'm going to focus most of my attention on ecstasy, my currently ongoing michaeng fic. not only that, but i can assure you that certain sequels are coming up. the sequel to for now, which is called forever will be shortly updated. the triquel to Black Coffee and Dark Chocolate Macchiato will be posted in a couple of weeks. as of right now, i am working on a very short minayeon bonus story for my debut story, Mina's Been Chaeting. i also have an upcoming story! it's called you're (not) mine. that will be posted in december, most likely. (lol this was just an update section)
> 
> anyways. i'm not planning on going too fast with this story. for this, i'll take my time with updates. if you get lost, please let me know in the comments (or dm me on twitter/instagram!) and i'll post recaps. but don't get too hopeful, because i'll say it again: updates will not be posted on a daily/weekly basis.
> 
> this story is going to have a rather intricate plot, and it'll (hopefully) compel you to think about certain things. i'm looking forward to how you all react.
> 
> well, then, i'll be back soon (you got lucky) with the beginning!


	6. CHAEYOUNG 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> son chaeyoung, and her views.

“Chaeyoung, are you free tonight?”

 

Chaeyoung looks up from her photographs on her desk to the young woman standing in front of it. A woman of average height, with a chubby face and long, black hair that reaches to her waist. (Originally it was ginger, but upon starting the job, she had to wash out the dye and go natural.)

 

Kim Dahyun, Chaeyoung’s best friend of ten years.

 

Honestly, Chaeyoung has no idea why Dahyun joined this art agency in the first place. Dahyun has no interest in art or photography, and despite working as a writer, she doesn’t like that either. It’s probably because Chaeyoung works here.

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Chaeyoung says, focusing back on her photographs and sorting them. “Why?”

 

Dahyun starts giggling, almost like she’s flustered. “Well…I want to take you out tonight.”

 

“God, Dahyun, I’m not interested in dating you.”

 

“Idiot. I meant that I want to take you to a dinner to meet my girlfriend. Minatozaki Sana.”

 

Chaeyoung pauses. She looks up at Dahyun just to make sure the older girl isn’t joking. Surprisingly, she isn’t; the happy and love-struck look on her face is genuine. “Wait. Sana? You mean that brain dead girl who works for the model agency next door?”

 

Dahyun scowls. “She’s not brain dead, you’re the one who’s brain dead. Yes, she’s the one who works for the agency next door, and you’ll like her. Just come tonight. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

 

Chaeyoung mutters a “fine,” and with a satisfied nod, Dahyun leaves her alone. Chaeyoung watches the older girl leave, unconsciously comparing her to Chaeyoung’s own visuals. Chaeyoung isn’t tall, nowhere near Dahyun’s height, that’s for sure. She’s only five feet and two inches, and dubbed the dwarf in her office. Dahyun has long black hair, and Chaeyoung short black hair. (Always styled in this mushroom headass look, but Chaeyoung can’t do anything about it. Her roommate, Chou Tzuyu, thinks it’s cute and won’t let her go out any other way.) Dahyun has a kind of innocent, warm look, whereas Chaeyoung – despite her mushroom hair that’s _supposed_ to make her look cute – has a rougher, I-am-not-taking-any-shit-from-you-so-shut-up-and-leave-me-alone look. In general, Dahyun looks normal and Chaeyoung looks absurd.

 

And Dahyun knows how to love, and Chaeyoung doesn’t.

 

Chaeyoung has no idea why her thoughts have suddenly migrated to the forbidden topic of love. She snorts and shakes her head, stacking her photographs up and slipping them into an envelope. Love is fickle and incredibly stupid. It’s not worth Chaeyoung’s time. She picks up her phone (the office phone that has the cord attached to it, of course, because Chaeyoung broke her own phone and now must borrow Tzuyu’s flip phone when she can) and dials Jeongyeon’s office number.

 

Yoo Jeongyeon, her boss, the most annoying woman Chaeyoung has known, the ladies’ woman known to almost all of mankind, picks up almost immediately. “Hellooooooo?”

 

“Tone it down a bit, Jeongyeon,” Chaeyoung grumbles, holding the phone away from her ear thanks to Jeongyeon’s loud ass voice. God. Doesn’t this woman know how to speak _quietly?_ “I got the photographs you requested; they’re here and waiting for you on my desk.”

 

“Oh?” Chaeyoung can just see the raised eyebrow and smirk on Jeongyeon’s face just by the tone of her voice. “You won’t give it to me yourself? Leaving early? Got a boyfriend, or even better, a girlfriend?”

 

“For god’s sake, Jeongyeon!” Chaeyoung yells, not minding the strange looks given to her by her office-mates. (They’re probably wondering how Chaeyoung possibly has the audacity to scream at the boss. They don’t know Chaeyoung’s known Jeongyeon since they were twelve.) “I’m not dating anyone, you know me better than that. And yeah, I’m leaving early. Dahyun wants to take me out for dinner to meet her girlfriend and there’s no way I’m heading straight there from work.”

 

“You’ve been pardoned,” Jeongyeon says seriously. Not too long after that, she starts giggling, which then transforms into a full-blown laugh. That seems to never stop. “Did you hear me? DID YOU HEAR ME? I sounded like an actual boss! Oh my god, my voice sounded so SERIOUS! What would you do if I acted like that all the time?”

 

“Shut up,” Chaeyoung mutters. Jeongyeon’s laughs – finally, goddammit – start to cease. “Yeah, you can leave early. Make sure the envelope is where I can see it.”

 

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. “I’ll write your goddamned name on it. Is that fine?” She hangs up, unable to listen to Jeongyeon’s constant rambling followed up by her uncontrollable laughing. Her jokes are terrible. No wonder she’s the only one who laughs at them, they’re so bad.

 

With a sigh, Chaeyoung gets up and packs her things. She shrugs her black leather jacket on, slings her bag over her shoulder, and heads out of the building, beginning the long eighty block walk to her dorm, where Tzuyu is undoubtedly waiting for her so she can see if Chaeyoung’s mushroom hair is ruined. (It’s not, because of the shit ton of oil poured on to it last night. It’s as sleek as a fucking seal. Seriously, Chaeyoung needs to get extensions soon.)

 

Chaeyoung promised herself she wouldn’t think about love. But she finds that her mind idly wanders over to the topic once again.

 

When did she last have a girlfriend? A few years ago, right? Hirai Momo, the cute Japanese girl who had stolen Chaeyoung’s heart and rendered her helpless. Chaeyoung thought she’d never find anything even close to what Momo made her feel. In a sense, she was right.

 

Momo’s one of Chaeyoung’s close friends now. But god, does it hurt to look at her. It hurts to smile at her, to laugh at her jokes, to hug her. Chaeyoung wonders what it would be like if things went differently. If, that one frosty winter night, Momo had said she wanted to keep it going. Would they be spending their lives together now? Perhaps they’d be living together. Momo would be a famous dance instructor (well, she already is, so nothing different there) and Chaeyoung would still have her art job. They’d go on dates every other day, to libraries and coffee shops, to the park or a museum. Or they’d just cuddle and watch Netflix with a big bowl full of popcorn between them. Nothing too bad about that. Chaeyoung would be held by Momo, and she’d hold Momo too, and everything would be fine in the world.

 

Just kidding!

 

Chaeyoung can’t waste her time thinking about those ridiculous things. It’s _too_ ridiculous, in her opinion. Love is something that ruins your life, that puts you on the edge of a cliff – the very cliff that’s right on top of hell – and pushes you down, so you’re crashing into an endless pit of darkness. Chaeyoung wants nothing to do with that. She already made her way up from hell before, she’s not visiting the demons again. There are some _freaky_ demons down there. No thanks!

 

“Friend Chaeyoung!”

 

Chaeyoung looks up from the sidewalk. Funny, lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized she had arrived at her dorm. And look at that, Tzuyu’s waiting for her. Just like Chaeyoung had thought.

 

Tzuyu looks especially good today, though. Too good for a casual day. Her hair is shining, her long brown tresses tumbling down her back, and she’s wearing heavy eyeliner. (It looks good on her. On Chaeyoung, it makes her look like Satan.) Light blush is tinging her cheeks, and, if Chaeyoung looks carefully, she can see pink lip gloss on Tzuyu’s lips. What’s more, is that she’s wearing a white shirt with an open denim jacket on top, and black shorts that show off her long, toned legs, paired with black high heels. High heels! Like she needs to get any taller.

 

But that aside, this look is unlike what Tzuyu normally wears. For her, it’s usually baggy sweatpants and long-sleeve shirts. She hates exposing skin unless she needs to. And here she is, wearing _shorts._ They’re so short that if she tugs her shirt down just an inch, it’ll look like she’s not wearing anything underneath.

 

For some reason, Chaeyoung feels oddly protective. And of course she does; she’s older than Tzuyu, even if it’s just by a few months. “What’s with the…revealing getup?”

 

“I’m going on a date today,” Tzuyu announces proudly, her eyes sparkling. She just looks so _happy,_ Chaeyoung observes. Not that Tzuyu isn’t happy, some days it seems like all Tzuyu needs to be happy is Chaeyoung, but today is something totally different. It’s just her. She’s different. Because…because of a date.

 

Chaeyoung thinks about Momo. And then she doesn’t. But it’s hard to do that, especially since she feels just a bit jealous herself.

 

She shrugs away the jealousy – it’s uncalled for – and grins at Tzuyu. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

 

(Sometimes it seems like everyone around Chaeyoung is gay. She wonders if Jeongyeon influenced them.)

 

Tzuyu beams. “Her name is Im Nayeon! She’s so sweet and caring. I really, really…I love her. She reminds me of Mom, though.”

 

Chaeyoung cringes; even with her limited experience in dating and relationships, she knows dating someone who reminds you of your mom is a big no-no. It’s off-limits. And it’s disgusting. “Your mom? Uh. You sure you want to date this…this Im Nayeon?”

 

Tzuyu laughs, hitting Chaeyoung’s arm playfully. It hurts like hell; Tzuyu’s strength is unhuman, but Chaeyoung tries not to wince and give it away. “Oh, come on, Chaeyoungie! I didn’t mean it like that. Anyways, we’re going to the movies tonight.” Her expression melts into one of worry. “Are you going to be okay at home alone?”

 

“I’m going on a dinner with Dahyun,” Chaeyoung informs her, rolling her eyes. “She wants to show me her new girlfriend.”

 

Tzuyu squeals like the hopeless romantic she is. “That’s so cute! Both of your best friends are going out on dates today! It’s a sign, Chaengie! You’re going to start dating someone soon, too!” She checks her watch – not seeing Chaeyoung’s pale face – and looks up, smiling. “I have to go. I’ll be back by eleven. Have fun!”

 

And Tzuyu skips away before Chaeyoung can call out a weak “you too.” Not that she would have.

 

With a heavy sigh, Chaeyoung unlocks the door to her room and steps inside, gently closing the door behind her. The living room is messy and full of scattered objects Chaeyoung thought Tzuyu had thrown away long ago. These objects used to be Chaeyoung’s, back when she was a senior in high school and was obsessed with creating three sculptures a day. Obviously, Tzuyu got fed up with Chaeyoung’s hoarding and threw these out when she wasn’t looking. Or so Chaeyoung thought.

 

Just this morning, though, the living room was clean. Chaeyoung briefly wonders why Tzuyu decided to bring out these objects. They’re years old, and coated with dust – Tzuyu’s worst enemy. However, with another glance, she dismisses it simply as nostalgia; Tzuyu is unfortunately a victim of never-ending trips to the past, and heads straight to her bedroom down the hall that also leads into the living room. Her bedroom is the one on the right, Tzuyu’s is the one on the left. They have no guest room, obviously, so Tzuyu always must make-do by sleeping with Chaeyoung, since her own room is the cleanest and most fit for a guest. Chaeyoung won’t say she appreciates the company from time to time. But secretly, she does.

 

Upon entering her room, she discovers that her bed is neatly made, and all the papers and spare photographs on her desk are stacked into a pile and placed next to her shut laptop. Everything is spic and span here, as compared to the living room. In conclusion? Tzuyu made hell of the living room and acted as if Chaeyoung’s room was a church.

 

Chaeyoung sets her bag down and takes her jacket off, throwing it over her chair. She collapses onto her bed, the mattress sinking down to make a comfy nest – in a sense – for her body, and shuts her eyes. It’s only six o’clock, giving her enough time for rest. And to think. Naturally, she’s thinking about Tzuyu.

 

Chou Tzuyu, the Taiwanese girl who transferred into Chaeyoung’s high school when they were fifteen. Chaeyoung still finds it incredible that they were able to hit it off so quickly. She hadn’t found it easy to mingle with Dahyun, who’s her _best friend,_ back when they were both eleven. It’s been ten years since she befriended Dahyun and six years since she befriended Tzuyu, and only four years since they both rented this dorm room and decided to call it home.

 

Clearly, they bought the dorm room, because though they can afford a damn mansion, Tzuyu refuses to leave. And that’s why they’re not comfortably situated in a nice, three-story house.

 

Okay, Chaeyoung _does_ like it in the dorm room. After all, it holds plenty of memories for the both of them. Like the time Tzuyu single-handedly cooked that Thanksgiving feast and invited at least fifteen other people to come over. Or the time they had hosted a little mini party for themselves, in which they spent time ruining the whole living room by throwing pillows and popcorn everywhere. And there was that one time where Momo came over –

 

Which, of course, is not worth thinking about, much less worth being a precious memory, now is it?

 

Chaeyoung’s phone vibrates in her pocket. Groaning – she was enjoying the minutes of silence and peace – she pulls it out, reading the text showing up on her phone screen. It’s from Jeongyeon, an apologetic request for Chaeyoung to quickly fill out some online paperwork regarding her photos and her right as a photographer to take them. Apparently, some other companies are complaining, like they do every single time Chaeyoung so much as raises her camera. Then again, she has time. She doesn’t need to get ready now.

 

She sits down in front of her laptop, muttering curses under her breath as she pulls up her email and clicks on the link that will direct her to the paperwork. Before the link redirects her, she spots a new email, from an address she’s never seen before. Is it spam? No, if it is, then it’d be in the spam folder, wouldn’t it? Unless it got loose and escaped. Chaeyoung highly doubts it. She’s still intrigued, though.

 

So, ignoring the seemingly urgent work at hand, she goes back to her email. The address consists of nothing but numbers, which is odd. What’s more odd is that it seems familiar to Chaeyoung, now that she’s looking at it. She opens the message – and instantly regrets it.

 

It’s from Momo.

 

Chaeyoung forces herself to swallow down the sadness and slight anger that rises in her throat. Admittedly, though the hurt of years past is threatening to swallow her up, she’s intrigued. What does Momo want? Knowing her, Chaeyoung guesses she’ll be wanting to discuss food, or that one cute girl she almost fucked the other day. Obviously, that was all they talked about, even when they were dating.

 

It’s absurd, if Chaeyoung thinks about it now. They were _dating,_ and Momo talked about fucking other girls. Not that she didn’t fuck Chaeyoung every other day. But still. Absurdity.

 

Surprisingly, the message isn’t about food or fucking. (Which catches Chaeyoung off guard.) It’s a request to get back together. Chaeyoung has to re-read the words, her eyes wide, before she gets it. With a huff, she slouches back into her seat, crossing her arms. She’s stupid for thinking Momo meant she wanted to pick up their relationship – or rather, what was left of it. Why would Momo ever? Obviously, she just wanted to see Chaeyoung again. She just wants to meet.

 

A growl slowly seeps out from behind Chaeyoung’s lips as she deletes the email and slams her laptop shut, the original reason for why she was there in the first place forgotten. She gets up and returns to her splayed-out position on the bed, a pounding ache occupying her temples. There’s no way she’s going to meet Momo. She doesn’t have time for nonsense like that. She doesn’t want to sit in a café with her hands curled around a mug of cooling coffee and stare into it while Momo talks about the shit she always talked about. _Something’s definitely wrong with her today._

 

Chaeyoung manages to pull herself up with great difficulty, and shuffles over to her wardrobe, in which messy piles of dirty and clean clothes mixed together are littering the floor. There’s only half an hour before Dahyun picks her up, and she wonders if she can find something decent to wear before her time is up.

 

_Dahyun._

Dahyun jinxed her, with that fucking “I’m going to have dinner with my girlfriend today and you should come too” garbage. Chaeyoung should’ve known, as soon as the words left Dahyun’s mouth, that today wouldn’t be a good day. She should’ve known the thought of love would plague her mind after Dahyun mentioned her girlfriend. She should’ve known. Goddammit.

 

Chaeyoung finds an oversized brown t-shirt stained with paint and blood and god knows what else. (There’s a white stain, and Chaeyoung hopes to god it’s not Momo’s cum, because that’s just disgusting.) She imagines the looks on Dahyun and Sana’s faces if she wore that. It’s tempting, but nope.

 

Fifteen minutes have passed. Chaeyoung sighs heavily and sits down, her legs crossed. What would Momo want me to wear? she thinks. It’s like magic – a tight collared black shirt catches her eye, and immediately after that, she spots a red tie and her only pair of clean dark denim cigarette jeans.

 

Once again, she’s tempted, but this time, it’s to not wear these clothes. After all, she only saw them when she thought of Momo.

 

How badly Chaeyoung wishes to escape love. She just wants to live in peace, for fuck’s sake.

 

Another glance at the clock tells her she has five minutes. The clothes are right there. Giving in, Chaeyoung reaches to grab the articles of clothing and shuts her door. (Tzuyu isn’t home, but it’s out of habit.) She smiles sadly at the clothes before she pulls them all out of the pile. Sure, she wants to forget Momo. She wants to forget love. She doesn’t want to make any decision because of Momo or love. But in this situation, it was necessary and she was desperate.  So maybe right now, it’s alright. Clothing _is_ important. It’s not like Chaeyoung could wear that stained shirt…

 

Right?

 

 

“You know what? I forgot to tell you earlier, but you look pretty good.”

 

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. “Don’t plan on having an affair with me.”

 

Dahyun laughs, stepping out of her car. It’s eight fifteen p.m., and Dahyun picked Chaeyoung up approximately sixteen minutes ago. She was one minute early; typical of her. In her luxury car – Chaeyoung can’t get enough of the heated seats – she drove Chaeyoung down to the center of the city, where the most well-known restaurants, stores, and malls are located. The city park was lit up with strings of multi-colored lights, all of them wrapped around poles and trees. Dahyun, cruelly not letting Chaeyoung enjoy the lights, rushed them over to the restaurant – a fancy large dimly lit bar complete with a dining area was what Chaeyoung guessed it was, based on the outward appearance. And so here they are now, parked in a large, crowded lot, behind the restaurant. “Sana’s good enough, thanks.”

 

Chaeyoung, remembering everyone’s favorite sex-crazed addict, Hirai Momo, decides to avoid the topic of Dahyun and her successful love life. She quickly steers the topic to something safer; clothes.

 

(That reminds her of Momo, too, thanks to the clothes she’s currently wearing and how she happened to wear them. So much for trying to distract herself.)

 

“What’s with your weird dress, though?” Chaeyoung teases, poking fun at Dahyun’s attire. It’s incredibly unlike Dahyun to be wearing a dress, most specifically a long black dress with thin straps and an open back. Dahyun – in Chaeyoung’s opinion, of course – is the type to pull on a wrinkled sweatshirt, slip into week old pants that haven’t quite made their way to the laundry yet, and call it formal clothing. Yet here she is, wearing a dress. Chaeyoung doesn’t think she’s ever seen the girl in a dress, though she can guess why it’s on her now.

 

Dahyun smiles sheepishly, blushing fiercely. “Sana.” _Of course. First we had everyone’s favorite sex-crazed addict, now we have everyone’s favorite dumbass. The dumbass next door._ “Don’t give me that look, Chaeyoung! Sana bullied me into it, and…you know how she gets when she’s adamant on something.”

 

_No, no, I don’t know, but I’ll take another guess._ “Hmm, lemme think. When you fuck, she takes top and teases you endlessly? You don’t get to come until she says so?” Chaeyoung has had plenty of experience. (Though she’d rather not speak about it; telling someone you’ve never topped your ex is extremely humiliating.) And just by the rapidly increasing redness spreading all over Dahyun’s face, she knows she’s guessed right. Again.

 

“N-never mind that,” Dahyun stammers, pushing past Chaeyoung and starting towards the restaurant. With a laugh, Chaeyoung follows, not bothering to tell Dahyun that her straps are starting to slip off her shoulders. She’s just doing Dahyun a favor; it’ll be the start of _smexy times with Sana and Dahyun._

 

They walk into the restaurant, which captivates Chaeyoung. It’s practically an art museum, what with all the famous paintings hung on every wall and the tables that resemble famous sculptures. The light, for the most part, is dim, like how it is on the outside, but it’s bright in the perfect places; framing certain paintings, lighting up particular tables, showcasing special drinks at the bar. Speaking of the bar, Chaeyoung hopes to god she’ll be able to visit it, because she very well knows she needs a drink to clear her mind.

 

Dahyun crushes her hopes by dragging her past the bar, the words “Not today, in your own free time” slipping out of her mouth as she does so. Chaeyoung pouts; she has to go through this awkward dinner and not even get to relax afterwards? For fuck’s sake, she hasn’t even fixed her hair for Dahyun, since the other girl insisted, so she’s burning up in embarrassment because of her damn mushroom hair! And she can’t even enjoy herself? Dahyun is the embodiment of Satan, Chaeyoung glumly concludes.

 

“We’re here,” Dahyun announces, pride evident in her voice. The pride really isn’t necessary, Chaeyoung thinks, but she decides to ignore it and focuses on the young woman at the table in front of them. She beams brightly at them and gets to her feet, and what Chaeyoung notices immediately is that this girl is _tall._ “Fuckin’ tall,” she mutters from the corner of her mouth to Dahyun. “You’ve married a giant.”

 

“Shut up,” Dahyun mumbles back, and Chaeyoung promptly feels a jab to her side. “Don’t exaggerate.”

 

Chaeyoung has to admit she’s exaggerating. The girl in front of them really isn’t that tall, maybe average sized, but she’s taller than Chaeyoung, and that’s all that matters. As Dahyun announces her as “Minatozaki Sana, my beautiful, amazing, perfect girlfriend” (could she get anymore cringe-worthy?) Chaeyoung quickly scans her from head to toe. Last she saw Sana, she was slim, had long, thick, curly black hair with red extensions at the ends, and wore a cream leather jacket on top of a purple turtleneck and tight jeans with boots. Nothing much has changed, other than the fact that her hair is now brown and free of extensions, and she’s wearing a strapless white dress, almost as if to match – or rather contradict, in a way – Dahyun’s black dress. Chaeyoung now gets why Dahyun was bullied into wearing her dress.

 

Chaeyoung plasters on her most charming smile, _yes the one that works even when she looks like a toddler_ , and holds out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Minatozaki. I’m Son Chaeyoung, Dahyun’s best friend of…hmm…how long was it again, Dahyun? One day? Two days?” She grins at Dahyun, who flashes her a glare. “Shut up, Chae.”

 

Sana laughs, gripping Chaeyoung’s hand tight – hopefully Chaeyoung doesn’t lose any fingers today! – and shakes it a good three times before letting go. “It’s just Sana. Pleased to meet you as well, Chaeyoung. Now.” She leans in, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Is Dahyun a top or bottom? I need to get it right, because no matter which position I take, she always gets angry and pouts.”

 

Chaeyoung wonders if Sana isn’t really a dumbass at all. This could be the start of an amazing friendship in which they constantly blackmail their girlfriend/best friend. Chaeyoung can’t wait.

 

She leans in, lowering her voice playfully as well. “I think…she’s _the dreaded bottom._ ”

 

Sana gasps, raising her hand to her mouth and glancing over at Dahyun, who’s not paying attention and instead staring at the menu. “What? That’s…that’s…” Her look of horror morphs into a smirk and raised eyebrows. “That’s wonderful. I love myself some good bottoms. I mean, I’m a top, after all…”

 

The two share some laughs, only to be interrupted by Dahyun. “I don’t want to know what you’re talking about, but can you shut up and come here? Let’s order. I’m hungry.”

 

Glancing at each other, mischief in their eyes, Sana and Chaeyoung obey, taking their seats. Sana settles down beside Dahyun, and Chaeyoung really doesn’t want to look down and see something she doesn’t need to see, so instead of sitting down beside Dahyun, she sits across from them. Dahyun flashes a look full of daggers (though, really, it’s more like a look full of kid knives, the one with dull blades and big, soft handles, since Dahyun can’t pull off the “I’m fucking angry at you, please go to hell” look at all) towards both Sana and Chaeyoung. “You guys are getting along, huh? Talking about me behind my back, or worse?”

 

“Oh, Dahyunnie,” Sana says, leaning towards her. She grins at Chaeyoung before turning her sugary sweet gaze back onto her girlfriend. “We were just talking about the essentials! Work and all, of course. What else?”

 

Dahyun visibly relaxes, and Chaeyoung has to pinch herself to keep from laughing. “Really? Like what?”

 

The words leave Sana’s mouth smoothly. “Sex positions!”

 

Dahyun starts sputtering, her face now multiple shades of red. Sana and Chaeyoung simultaneously start laughing, hunching over with their arms clutched tight around their torsos. Chaeyoung swears she can feel tears welling up, and her side is starting to cramp from laughing so hard. She takes one look at Dahyun and starts howling again; Dahyun has somehow obtained a mini cross and is gripping it in her hand, muttering prayers under her breath. Kim Dahyun, the Jesus advocate.

 

With great difficulty, Chaeyoung rises to her feet, rubbing her eyes and taking in deep breaths, recovering. Sana looks like she can’t be rescued from hell anytime soon, as she’s leaning into Dahyun, covering her mouth, her body shaking from silent laugher. She recomposes herself and straightens, whispering something into Dahyun’s ear, only to collapse back into laughter. Dahyun stiffens, and she shuts her eyes, her mouth moving at rapid speed and the cross looking like it’s going to snap in half from the intensity it’s being gripped at. Chaeyoung swallows hard, trying to stop the various ideas of what Sana could’ve said from entering her mind, and swiftly excuses herself, heading over to the bar.

 

She sits down, ignoring the drinks. Tempting as they may be, Chaeyoung _has_ been asked to refrain from getting drunk today, and though today is the day she could use a drink or two, she can’t. She’ll listen to Dahyun and she doesn’t want to ruin her reputation, either.

Chaeyoung looks back over to Sana and Dahyun. The cross is nowhere to be seen, and instead of the earlier scene of Sana laughing her ass off and Dahyun praying at god-speed – _hah, get it?_ – it’s a different scene; Dahyun is murmuring what could only be sweet nothings into Sana’s ear and clasping Sana’s hand in hers. Chaeyoung can see from here that Dahyun is rubbing her thumb along the back of Sana’s hand. It’s a comforting, soothing tactic, and Chaeyoung leans back in her seat and against the counter, unconsciously taking her own hand and rubbing it. When was the last time someone did that to her? No, no, the right question is, _who_ was the last person to do that to her?

 

Instead of Sana and Dahyun, Chaeyoung now sees herself and Momo. A younger version of herself, the Son Chaeyoung who was obsessed with fancy scarves and comfy, long black jackets and ripped grey jeans and knee-high black boots, the Son Chaeyoung who was always smiling and laughing, the Son Chaeyoung whose life hadn’t been ruined. The Son Chaeyoung who was beyond happy with her girlfriend, Hirai Momo.

 

A coppery taste fills Chaeyoung’s mouth. It’s tangy and salty, and reminds her of blood. She’s been biting down on her tongue. She clenches her jaw, swiping at her nose and blinking rapidly, to stop the stinging in her eyes. She tries, she’s trying, to ignore what her heart is screaming at her. What her heart has always been screaming at her, ever since this day began.

 

_You need someone new. You need someone to stay by your side, no matter what. You need someone who’ll come to you at two a.m., ready to wipe your tears away and envelop you in a hug. You need someone who’ll love you. You need love._

Chaeyoung doesn’t need love. Fuck what her heart says; it’s gone haywire anyways.

 

She heads back to the table, sitting down and smiling like nothing happened in the first place. She had just gone out to get some fresh air, no, she hadn’t gone to the bar, no, she hadn’t drunk anything, yes, she’s sober, yes, she’s fine, and would they please order now? Dahyun looks satisfied, Sana looks gay, and Chaeyoung is fine. She’s fine. _Fine._

 

The rest of the dinner passes uneventfully. Chaeyoung orders some special pasta dish and Sana and Dahyun, being the weird couple they are, order practically a whole five course meal, pausing in between ravenous bites to lovingly feed each other. It’s a wonder Chaeyoung manages not to throw up. They talk, the clock strikes eleven, and Dahyun says it’s time to go. Chaeyoung all but bounces out of her seat, saying farewell to Sana (and sharing a certain look as well) and following Dahyun out of the restaurant.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Dahyun meets Chaeyoung’s eyes with a challenging glare in hers, and Chaeyoung finds it awfully familiar. It’s the look of someone who’s had something to drink. So Dahyun orders food with alcohol mixed in and Chaeyoung can’t even get a drink? Dahyun’s lucky Chaeyoung’s too tired to bring it up, otherwise she’d be pinned against the wall right now, suffocating and begging for forgiveness. With a heavy sigh, Chaeyoung nods, and leans against the wall next to the bathroom door, her hands tucked in her pockets and her head tipped up, staring at the night sky. It looks like a painting, she thinks; a painting she distinctly remembers creating herself. A painting she created, her hand on top of Momo’s, gently guiding the older girl’s strokes…

 

Chaeyoung still has the painting. It’s under her bed, coated with dust like the rest of her relics from years past. It could be considered a relic from years past as well, Chaeyoung figures. That, and her relationship, and her eagerness to love, and to be loved, and her steady, beating heart.

 

Now it’s just Son Chaeyoung and her unwillingness to love and to be loved and her cold, frozen heart. And that’s good enough for Chaeyoung. Plenty good enough. There’s nothing she wants more, is there?

 

“Hey. You. Are you the guardian of this bathroom, or something?”

 

Chaeyoung narrows her eyes, bringing her gaze down from the sky to the person in front of her who just spoke. It’s a woman who looks a few years older than her, with long black hair and thin bangs, and a smirk on her face. Chaeyoung can’t tell if this woman is homeless or not, as her clothing – baggy shirt and baggy pants (reminding Chaeyoung of Tzuyu) – certainly suggests she is, but her looks, her aura, says the opposite.

 

The woman flashes a grin at Chaeyoung, revealing what can only be called “bunny teeth.” In other circumstances, Chaeyoung would’ve found them adorable and maybe even have complimented the woman, but it’s eleven p.m., she’s exhausted both physically and mentally, and she can’t take any shit right now. “No, I’m not. I’m waiting for my friend. Why, do you need to go?”

 

“Just wondering.” The woman smiles more brightly. She winks, and skips off, leaving Chaeyoung in utter bewilderment. _Who the hell was that?_

Then Dahyun stumbles out of the bathroom with her drunk Jesus loving ass, a flask in her hand (Chaeyoung doesn’t want to know where she got it from), mumbling lines from the Bible under her breath, and Chaeyoung has something else to take care of.

 

 

Something heavy as fuck is pinning Chaeyoung’s arm to her bed, and it’s starting to really hurt.

 

She slowly opens her eyes, bright sunlight blinding her almost immediately. Despite her eyes stinging, she manages to drag herself up to a sitting position, her head leaning back against the wall. Yawning, she looks down – and there’s Tzuyu, breathing softly, her hair an absolute mess and dark circles under her eyes. Chaeyoung looks closer, and she swears she can see faded trails of mascara on Tzuyu’s cheeks.

 

Tzuyu had been crying last night. Chaeyoung can’t remember if Tzuyu was home before Chaeyoung or not; she was half-asleep when she came back, but something definitely happened during Tzuyu’s date with Im Nayeon. Whoever the hell that is. Chaeyoung can already feel rage building up inside her; this Im Nayeon hurt Tzuyu, and Tzuyu deserves better than that.

 

Chaeyoung feels Tzuyu shift around and begin to stir. She wipes the furious expression off her face and smiles gently down at Tzuyu as the (slightly) younger girl’s eyes flutter open. “Good morning.”

 

“Good morning, Chaeng.” Tzuyu rolls off of Chaeyoung’s arm – thank God, Chaeyoung’s arm was beginning to go numb – and stretches, but the typical early morning drowsy smile that’s always on her face isn’t present. Chaeyoung knows something’s wrong, and that hurts her; it drives a stake into her already stake-ridden heart. She cares about Tzuyu, she really does, and if Tzuyu’s hurt, then so is Chaeyoung. She runs her fingers through Tzuyu’s tangled hair, and murmurs softly, “What happened?”

 

In a monotone, Tzuyu replies, “I broke up with Nayeon.”

 

It absolutely stings to hear Tzuyu say that. Chaeyoung inhales sharply, and clenches her fist, the one that isn’t now resting on Tzuyu’s back. “Already? What did she do? What did the bastard do? Tell me, Tzuyu, I swear, I’ll make a mess of her, she’ll regret she ever lived –”

 

“It’s not her fault.” Tzuyu’s voice is barely above a whisper, yet Chaeyoung can still hear it crack. “It’s mine. It’s mine, it’s mine, it’s mine. I love someone else, Chaeyoung. If I hadn’t known she was already having affairs, I…I would’ve lived in denial. I’m lucky.”

 

“How could you be lucky that your girlfriend is having fucking affairs behind your back?” Chaeyoung cries, her clenched fist shaking. Her nails are digging into her palm, and she can feel something warm start to ooze out. “That’s not right, Tzuyu, and you know it as well as I do! That’s fucking disgusting!”

 

“Do you know why I broke up with her so soon?”

 

Chaeyoung stares at Tzuyu. Tzuyu’s eyes are hollow, yet there’s a hint of desperation in them. Her skin is pale, colorless, devoid of life. She looks like a rag doll – and it scares Chaeyoung. Whatever happened to Tzuyu…it scares Chaeyoung. Because it reminds her of after Momo. She can only hope that it didn’t happen to Tzuyu as well.

 

She can only hope Tzuyu hadn’t fallen in love with someone else and known she couldn’t have them, as well. She can only hope Tzuyu hasn’t decided to give up love, as well.

 

“Because I love someone else.”

 

Chaeyoung can only hope that whoever it is, it’s not her, because that would be like taking a heavy metal bat to her glass heart and shattering it.

 

“And it’s you.”

 

The bat is swung, making contact with glass, shattering it, sending shards of sharp and dull, clear and foggy, black and white, glass everywhere. The glass embeds itself into every part of Chaeyoung’s body. It’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to admit that,

 

that,

that yes, she loves Tzuyu too, and she’s done one hell of a job hiding it from everyone, hiding it from herself, and this was the one thing she wished wouldn’t happen, because she’s not stable enough to handle it anymore…

 

Another painting is created. But this time, it’s Chaeyoung guiding Tzuyu’s hand, creating swirls of red and blue and orange and green, onto a tan canvas.

 

This time, it’s Chaeyoung and Tzuyu creating their own downfall, from love to depression, from depression to death. And Chaeyoung knows it’s inevitable, because she’s already in the second stage.

 

Chaeyoung thought she couldn’t love anymore. Then she thought she’d be able to convince herself she couldn’t love anymore. Both things turned out to be incorrect, and oh, how disappointed they made Chaeyoung! How utterly miserable they made Chaeyoung!

 

She doesn’t want the same thing to happen to Tzuyu. She can only hope, she can only hope, _she can only hope Tzuyu isn’t already broken._

Chaeyoung shakes her head. _She can only hope it’s good enough for Tzuyu._ And it is, for Tzuyu smiles, albeit a bit sadly. “I get it. I get what you mean, Chaeyoung, I do. I truly wish it could work out another way, but I guess, as long as we’re still close friends…I’ll be fine.”

 

She gets to her feet, climbing out of Chaeyoung’s bed. She’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt, and underneath Chaeyoung sees nothing but Tzuyu’s long, tan, toned legs. Tzuyu smiles again, the sadness completely gone now. “I’m making breakfast. Come out in ten minutes, okay?”

 

Chaeyoung nods. She doesn’t get up, though. She slowly slides down back to a lying position on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The darkness from before, from Momo, is returning, haunting her, surrounding her, pulling her back into that cage.

 

She shuts her eyes, because it hurts. It’s searing, red hot pain, lapping at her feet like water, like fire. It’s growing hands that grip her wrists and _pull,_ shoving her into a desolate, secluded area, all black and blue, all shadows and dark water and wretchedness.

 

It’s back.

 

She doesn’t know how long she stays in that cage for. Three days? Four days? A week? Two weeks, surely. No, no, three weeks, for Tzuyu’s already started her new job, and she was supposed to a week ago. Or is it a whole month?

 

However long it is, Chaeyoung knows. She’s back in hell, and this time, she doesn’t think she can get out.

 

She doesn’t think anyone will be able to get her out.


End file.
